


Sing Us Home Again

by Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Force Dyad (Star Wars), Post-Canon, Romance, Soulmates, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22696651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium/pseuds/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium
Summary: What if finding Ben in the World Between Worlds wasn't the difficult part?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

_You, the one I left behind/_   
_If you ever walk this way/_   
_Come and find me/_   
_Lying in the bed I made._

Rey shivered in the frigid air. She sat cross-legged on the floor of the cave, facing the mirrored wall that refused to reveal her parents so long ago. Wet hair and clothing chafed her skin as she focused again on controlling her breathing and slowing the painful thud of her heart. She had been trying for hours to enter a meditative state but her body would not cooperate. She felt increasingly desperate, and that desperation made the peace she needed impossible to achieve.

Months of studying the ancient Jedi texts, painstakingly translating passages with Threepio’s help, had convinced Rey that Ben Solo was not lost to her forever. She had come to believe that Ben was in a place the manuscripts named _World Between Worlds_. She could feel the bond between them even now, alive but muted, as if he were only deeply asleep at its other end.

There were other words in the texts— _vergence scatter_ and _chain worlds_ and _unbeing_ —confusing terms that meant nothing to Rey but unsettled her when she read them. There were drawings, too, complex and abstract images that made her head ache trying to understand. But it was the map that brought her here. The instant she saw tiny Ahch-To, suspended in inky orbit far closer than it should have been to tiny Exegol, she imagined a bridge linking them. She was in the _Falcon_ before Finn or Rose could ask where she was going.

Ahch-To was a place strong in the Light. That was why it was the site of the earliest Jedi temple. Exegol was its opposite, a concentration of darkness that drew early Sith for their own unholy spaces. She and Ben were opposites linked across time and space. Ben had disappeared on Exegol, so Rey must go to Ahch-To. It was both insane and utterly logical.

But her initial certainty was slipping. The cave had not revealed its workings. A door had not opened in the mirror, still resolutely present and solid. Rey’s failed meditation had not caused forgotten Jedi knowledge to suddenly fill her mind, nor had it summoned Luke, or any other spirit guide willing to lend a hand. She had reached the point of begging.

_Let me pass._   
_Let me find him._   
_He is myself._   
_We are one._   
_Please._

It was maddening. Rey’s legs and back ached. Her teeth chattered. She wanted to scream with frustration and curse every dead Jedi who hadn’t cared enough to protect Ben, to protect both of them from lifetimes of misery. Was this yet another test, another stupid puzzle, or a final insurmountable obstacle standing between them? And how could she hope to achieve peace when she was this furious? Rey pushed up off the slick stone and began to pace, hugging herself for warmth.

Maybe she had missed something or misinterpreted a crucial line. The irony was that the person she most needed to solve this riddle was Ben himself. He was the student of obscure Force lore. He could have helped her read the texts. Her throat tightened imagining how eager he would have been to even hold them. She knew they could have eventually worked out the meaning of anything if they had only had the chance to do it together.

Rey stopped short, sliding a little on the slimy ground. That was the key she had missed. They needed to open the door _together_. Neither of them could unlock it alone. She spun, a breath hitching in her chest as she approached the wall. She imagined the Force as an animal, alert and wary, watching from the shadows to see what she would do.

The surface of the mirror was strangely warm as she spread both palms flat against it. It looked just like she remembered, silver and cloudy, casting a ghostly light. She hesitated, unsure what to do. Before, she had simply asked for what she wanted. That was as good a place to start as any. She closed her eyes, and filled her mind with an image of his face from that last hour on Exegol, so open and fiercely beautiful that in an instant she had known this was _Ben_ coming for her.

_I’m here._   
_Help me, Ben._   
_Help me find you._   
_I can’t be without you._   
_Please, Ben. I can’t do this alone._

She opened her eyes slowly, afraid of seeing nothing. The colors on the surface shifted and danced, dark swirls of movement that initially refused to resolve themselves into any kind of shape. But as she watched, the colors coalesced into a single spot and formed a dark, irregular figure. It felt far from her, though how she could perceive distance through the barrier she didn’t know. “Ben,” she whispered, “can you hear me? I’m here. We’re so close, Ben. Please help me. Help me open the door.”

Almost imperceptibly, the warmth of the mirror’s surface moved through her fingers and palms, spreading down her arms. The slosh of water and shrieking of wind outside the cave died away, replaced by a kind of high-pitched ringing that hurt her ears. The mirror started to vibrate, gently at first but with increasing violence. Rock shards and dust dislodged by the tremors rained down on her head as the ledge shook. The heat of the wall increased, burning the skin of her palms. Rey struggled to concentrate, terrified to break contact. The figure—Ben, she was certain—was moving closer. The bond sparked and snapped taut between them, making her gasp.

She couldn’t let go, she wouldn’t, not if her arms burst into flames. The noise inside her head was deafening. A trickle of blood slipped from her nose onto her lip. The ground was pitching so violently that she felt ill from the motion. _Ben_ , she pleaded silently, _hurry_. To come so far, to pull her soul mate back from death itself, to feel him in her arms just as they were entombed under tons of dirt and rock…wouldn’t that be rich, the Force’s last great joke at their expense? A wild, despairing laugh burst out of Rey, as the world dissolved under her hands and she pitched forward into nothingness.

~~~~~

She was strangely adrift and out of focus. The echo in her ears and pain in her hands had vanished. The tang of blood was gone. Was it dark here or were her eyes closed? Lifting her head was definitely too difficult a task to attempt. A sound in the near distance was coming closer but her muddled brain couldn’t make any sense of its patterns. Trying to escape was out of the question; her mind might be untethered, but her body was as dense and heavy as the core of a star.

The sound got louder and louder, ending as she felt herself being lifted and wrapped in a tight embrace. Happiness flooded through her. She couldn’t seem to speak, but Ben was there and nothing else mattered.

“I’m here. You made it. You made it again, brave girl,” he said. He was holding her so close it was hard to breathe, but she wouldn’t have asked to be let go even if she could. His warmth seemed to bring her back into herself, and she sighed against his neck.

“You’ll feel better soon. You’re safe. I’m here.” His voice cracked as he reassured her, pressing soft kisses to her hair. “I missed you.”

It occurred to Rey to wonder if she was now dead. She didn’t much mind the idea. Ben was holding her, pushing strands of hair behind her ear with exquisite care. If this was the afterlife, it was superior to anything she had experienced on the other side of the divide.

“Rey, can you open your eyes? Look at me, sweetheart. Try for me,” he whispered. He was tracing soft circles along her upper arm with his thumb and all her consciousness was focused on that single point of contact. But for Ben she would try. For Ben she would do anything, cross the galaxy or defy death. She shifted toward the sound of his voice and centered all her will on lifting her eyelids. Climbing the stepped slopes of Ahch-To was less exhausting.

His face filled her entire field of vision. He was smiling down at her with a tenderness that made her heart stutter. “Ben,” she said, or tried to say. Her next attempt was more audible. “I found you.”

“You always find me. Every time.” He shifted her weight, pulling her up so she was sitting more comfortably. He rubbed each of the fingers on her hands in turn, as if trying to work life back into them. When they kissed good bye without realizing it, Ben had been covered in bloody cuts and bruises. There was no trace of injury on his skin now. He was flushed and his eyes were bright. He seemed to feel her stare, and responded with such naked adoration that Rey was kissing him before she realized she had the strength to do it.

His lips were warm and soft, just as she remembered. The bond pulsed around them and grounded Rey fully into this place and time, whatever it might be. She felt safe and whole and gloriously herself—then abruptly confused. She pulled back reluctantly. “Wait, what did you mean when you said I made it _again_? That I make it _every time_?”

Ben’s face darkened. “We usually have more time before...”

“Before what?”

“Before you start asking questions. Remembering.”

“Remembering what, Ben?” The fear she had so recently escaped came roaring back. But was it her distress or his? It was difficult to separate their emotions when they were this close.

He lifted her hand from his shoulder and grazed her knuckles softly. He was clearly working up the courage to say something he didn’t want to say.

“That this isn’t the first time you have come here, trying to bring me back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired by ideas explored in Marie-Claire Gould’s excellent podcast, "What the Force"; NBC’s "The Good Place"; the short story “The Egg,” by Andy Weir; the musical "Hadestown" (from which both the title and opening/closing quotations come); and the story of Indra and Brahma as told by scholar Joseph Campbell in the PBS documentary series, "The Power of Myth."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's easy to get into Hell.  
> There are infinite doorways in.  
> It's getting out that's harder.

“Where are we?” Rey asked. They were crossing a translucent bridge surrounded by a field of stars. Every so often, she thought she could hear someone speaking in the distance, but no one else appeared. Ben led the way, never letting go of her hand. He was bringing her somewhere so he could explain, he said. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was buying time.

It was such a bizarre place, unlike anywhere she had been or dreamed. Bridges branched off in every direction, above and below as well as to their sides. Some paths ended in circular doors or portals of some kind, but it was impossible to say where any of them led. All she could see beyond was a limitless span of stars. It was like strolling through space itself. The thought gave her a little thrill of terror, and she clutched Ben’s hand harder.

He glanced back over his shoulder. “I don’t know. I have theories. I’m not sure it matters what we call it.” He turned down a path on their left, one that ended in a circular door encased in a triangle decorated with unfamiliar symbols. It gave off immense dark energy, strong enough that Rey was reluctant to approach it. She hesitated and Ben stopped walking. He turned back, reaching for her other hand.

“Don’t you trust me yet?” he asked.

“What an absurd question.”

His eyes crinkled when he smiled. She had only learned that an instant before she lost him. “I see you’re feeling more like yourself,” he teased, kissing her lightly on the temple and tugging her again toward the end of the bridge. The closer they got to the portal, the stronger her aversion grew. Ben showed no sign of being bothered by it.

The circle cast a faint bluish glow, visible only now that they were standing directly in front of it. Rey could no longer see stars beyond; instead, the interior was opaque and forms took shape. It was like watching a holo materialize. The symbols in the points of the triangle flashed deepest red as the view sharpened. Rey’s stomach clenched. She recognized herself on Exegol, facing the immense throne of the Sith alone.

“What _is_ this place? How is this possible? Am I…is that the past?” she demanded.

“In a way,” Ben answered, “but it’s more complicated than that. This is where I came through, Rey.”

“Where you came through? After you…when you saved me? You came through this doorway, like I just did over there?”

He nodded.

She stared at the image for a moment. She saw herself on the ground, bloodied and weeping inconsolably, clutching a dark scrap of cloth to her face. “It’s been months since this happened. You’ve been trapped here alone, watching this, for months?”

Ben didn’t respond. He was staring at the other Rey as she sobbed, his face a mask of grief. Finally he said, “I’ve been here a lot longer than that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Time doesn’t pass for me like it does for you. I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been here. But I know we’ve had this conversation before.” His voice was steady but hollow. “Many times.”

Rey felt a stab of fear. Perhaps his mind had been affected when he crossed over. She stepped closer, squeezing his wrist reassuringly. “Ben, I think you’re confused. I’ve never been here before. I promise I’d remember this place if I had been.”

He actually smirked. “I wish I had a day with you for every time you’ve said that to me. I’m not confused, Rey. You’ve just forgotten. Every time you go through one of these doors, you forget.” His pain sliced through the bond, icy sharp, stealing her breath with its intensity. “I can prove it.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. “This is going to be…a lot to take in.”

Her mind exploded with Ben’s memories. An unending parade of Reys passed through dozens, maybe hundreds, of portals. Again and again she returned, through different doors, in different clothing, her hair longer and shorter, braided and loose. She watched through Ben’s eyes as he explained to each of these disbelieving versions of herself that this was not her first attempt to find him, to break the cycle she did not even understand she was caught in.

Pain lanced her knees as she fell hard to the bridge, coughing and gasping. She thought she might vomit. Ben kneeled beside her, warm hands on her back, a soothing voice in her ear. “I’m sorry. I know how badly this affects you. I’ve tried so many different ways to tell you but it’s never any better.”

“How can this be? I don’t understand.” She was crying, hot tears sliding down her nose. They passed right through the bridge when they finally dropped. She imagined each tear, falling forever through a bottomless well of stars. A wave of dizziness rolled over her.

“I know. Breathe. I’m here. I’ll explain everything. As well as I can, anyway.”

He sat back, pulling Rey into his arms. He let her cry for a while, then quietly began to tell her a story. It was the tale of a young man who sacrificed himself to save the woman he loved more than anyone or anything in his lonely life. Then he crossed a border he hadn’t known was there, into a non-place meant only for him. The young man had thought this a brutally just end. Solitary exile for his many crimes. An empty life morphed easily into an empty death. But the one he loved was no ordinary woman. She was impossibly brave, fiercely loyal, endlessly patient. They were bound together across space and time, and his aching heart guided her to him as sure and true as any wayfinder ever made. She learned how to do the impossible, how to pierce his endless darkness. They had a shining moment of reunion, but it was finite. The man could not leave and the woman could not stay. They did not agree on why this was so. I’m beyond hope, he argued, but you are not. Nonsense, she replied. I have always had hope for you. And I always will.

Rey’s hands shook as he spoke. When he finished, she climbed to her feet and began to stumble back the way they had come. At the last moment she swerved right, taking another path that ended in a circle enclosed in angular geometric designs. “I went through this one. This last time. It was this one, wasn’t it?” The circle glowed red and showed an image of herself and Ben battling for their lives, back to back and ringed in flames.

“You’ve been through that one a few times,” he said, coming up behind her. “You were sure…”

“That this moment was the key to changing everything,” she finished, as Ben’s double caught the lightsaber she threw to his aid. Flashes of the past—pasts?—crowded her thoughts. She had refused Ben’s hand. No, that wasn’t right. She had accepted him, but Hux and his troopers burst in and tried to kill them. Wait, no. She had begged Ben to come away with her but he never had the chance to answer, because the room exploded around them when the _Supremacy_ was hit…all the scenarios collided simultaneously inside her brain. She bent forward, grabbing fistfuls of hair to still the whirlwind.

“But it never changes anything!”

“That’s not true. Things change. But they’re usually small things that don’t matter much. Or the same events occur but in a different order. In the end, we’re always in roughly the same place.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. There must be something I’ve overlooked…”

“No, stop. Please, Rey,” he gently dislodged her hands from her hair and brought them both to his chest. “Look at me. Stop. There’s nothing more you can do. Nothing we can do. There is no trying harder. At first, we thought we must be moving toward something, do you remember now? We thought we might be able to get closer to changing the final outcome with each try. But it never worked that way, Rey. If there is any kind of pattern, we’ve never seen it.” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “We have to accept it, sweetheart. This isn’t meant to be.”

“What do you mean? What does that _mean_ , Ben?”

He sighed heavily, releasing her hands and stepping back. He sounded defeated. “I can’t take it anymore, Rey. Do you know how many times I’ve had to watch you leave, knowing exactly how it was going to end? Or how hard it is to see you forget what we mean to each other, over and over? To watch myself make the same idiotic mistakes a thousand times and not be able to do anything about it? It’s…I can’t do it anymore. We’ve been losing each other for a hundred lifetimes. I can’t lose you again.” His voice broke. “There are no more doors to go through, Rey. No more chances. This is the end.”

“But,” she protested, “if I can’t stay and you can’t leave, what does it even mean to say it ends? What would you do differently?”

He had clearly given the matter thought. His next words sounded rehearsed. “It means you go back, Rey. You go back through the original door, the first one you crossed, and you forget about me. Permanently. You live your life. As it was obviously intended to happen.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. Of all the stupid things Ben Solo had ever said to her, this was by far the stupidest. “And what happens to you? You sit on this bridge and meditate ‘til the end of time?”

His expression was grim. “I have a few ideas about that.”

“Ideas?” she demanded.

Ben didn’t respond, but his eyes flicked sideways, past the edge of the bridge.

A mix of panic and fury tore through Rey. “Are you insane? You’re going to jump? Why would you even consider such a ridiculous, such a selfish—” she sputtered, unable to find words strong enough to make him understand her horror. “What makes you think it would even work? Have you considered that you might just spend the rest of forever falling through space? Would that be preferable to being here with me, even if it is just for a little while?”

At that, he rushed forward, jerking her into his arms and crushing her mouth in a bruising kiss. The bond crackled with energy, waves of sound like song radiating around them. They broke apart only to gasp for air.

“Nothing will ever matter more to me than you,” he whispered fiercely. “That’s why I can’t let you give up your future for me. You’ve given up too much as it is.”

“Says the man who literally died for me,” she retorted, pressing sharp kisses along the line of his jaw. “You’re here in my place. Nothing you say can convince me that you wouldn’t do exactly what I’m doing. No! You are not leaving me. Not now, not ever. Do you hear me? We’re two halves of the same soul—you’re the one who told me that. I can’t be without you. If you jump off this bridge, I swear I’ll jump right after you.” She buried her face in his neck.

“And anyway, what you said before, you got it wrong,” she contended. “We’ve spent lifetimes _finding_ each other. And loving each other. Every time I go back. No matter where or when I go. Nothing can keep us apart. Not a galactic war. Not death. Not the Force. Nothing,” she finished ferociously.

They clung together for a long time. The whispering voices Rey thought she heard earlier seemed to grow louder, though she could not make out what any of them were saying. The portals glimmered against the blackness encompassing them. When Ben spoke, she felt the rumble of his voice deep in his chest, and it was comforting despite the desperation of their circumstances.

“So what do we do? Just keep going like this? No peace, no rest? No happiness.”

She pulled back and took his face in her hands. His eyes were ancient. “Maybe _this_ is our happiness. This moment. Maybe this place is our sanctuary. If this is all we get, I’ll gladly take it over nothing.”

Ben nodded solemnly, then rubbed his check tenderly against hers.

“Why can’t I just stay? I can’t remember. If it’s some idiotic idea of yours about me having a better life without you—?”

“That’s not idiotic, but it’s not the reason. You get ill, very ill. We’ve tried to come up with a solution so many times, but nothing ever works. I think it’s because you aren’t meant to be here. You’re alive but I’m…not.”

“How long do we have?”

He ran the pad of his thumb across her lips.

“Just long enough,” he murmured.

~~~~~

Later, they sat in front of the first portal that Rey had ever come through. She rested between his legs, cocooned in the expansive heat of his embrace. She couldn’t make sense of the fact that he was so warm, or that his heart beat a reassuring rhythm against her back. But she was grateful for both.

“Ben,” she breathed against his shoulder, “I don’t want to go back. I don’t care how sick I get.”

“Rey…”

“No, listen. What if I stay and just…let it happen. You see what I mean? What’s the worst that can come of it? I die, right? Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe I die, and then that’s the key to my staying. Maybe that’s exactly what I’m supposed to do.” She was embarrassed by the eagerness in her voice.

She felt him shake his head softly against her hair, and knew what he was going to say.

“I’ve suggested that before, haven’t I?”

“Yeah. It…didn’t go the way you hoped.”

“I didn’t die.”

“Obviously. But you suffered so much that just having to see it made me want to die all over again.”

“Why don’t I remember that?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes it’s patchy. No one is supposed to be able to do what you’ve done, let alone do it a hundred times over. I’m glad you don’t remember. I wish I didn’t.” He nuzzled her ear. “And to be clear, I was against it then and I’m against it now. I don’t want you to die. I want you to live.”

“If this is where you are, this is the only place I _am_ alive, Ben Solo.”

She felt an instantaneous shift in his emotions. He had been relaxed, almost peaceful in her company. But a gale of darkness suddenly howled inside him. Its immense strength raised the hairs on her arms.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, as he pulled away and stood up. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Of course not. It’s not you. It’s…this place, this absolute, never-ending _hellscape of a_ _nightmare_ we're trapped in!” He was turning in circles, shaking his fists in swelling rage. “You never did anything to deserve this. Never. This is all _my_ fault, and the fact that I can’t do one, single _kriffing_ thing about it is…it’s just…” Ben threw back his head and screamed.

Rey was behind him in an instant, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face to his back. He had told her they didn’t have much time until her body would demand to return through the cosmic door. As much as he needed to release the bitter emotions churning inside him, she couldn’t afford to spend a single moment distant from him.

He evidently felt the same. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said, turning in her arms. His wrath evaporated as suddenly as it had erupted. He dropped to his knees and hid his face in her stomach. “The thought of you leaving…it will be so long…I can’t…” Rey couldn’t hear his words clearly but she could feel the damp warmth of tears spreading through her fabric wraps.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” a voice said. “Perhaps I can help.”

They both froze in shock. Rey turned to find herself staring down at a familiar face.

“Maz?” she gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired by ideas explored in Marie-Claire Gould’s excellent podcast, "What the Force"; NBC’s "The Good Place"; the short story “The Egg,” by Andy Weir; the musical "Hadestown" (from which both the title and opening/closing quotations come); and the story of Indra and Brahma as told by scholar Joseph Campbell in the PBS documentary series, "The Power of Myth."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is a flat circle.

Ben and Rey stared open-mouthed at the small form of Maz Kanata. She stood not far from them, on a transparent bridge somewhere beyond space and time, just as casually as if she were taking their drink order at her cantina on Takodana.

She chuckled. “Well, Ben Solo, I always knew you to be a stern-faced, silent sort of child. But it certainly sounded as though you had something you wanted to say to the universe just now.” When Ben proved unable to respond, she teased, “Loth-cat got your tongue?”

Rey helped Ben to his feet, mouthing, “You know Maz?” He nodded absently, still too surprised to speak.

“Many was the time that young Ben here accompanied his father on a visit to my castle,” Maz offered. Her voice was full of fondness. “I even seem to recall you darkening my door with your uncle once. Your hair was much shorter then, young Jedi. I like it better this way, covers the ears,” she concluded with an approving nod.

“How—” Rey began.

“Who are you?” Ben interrupted. Beneath his aggression, Rey felt a current of pure fear.

“You know perfectly well who I am, child,” Maz shot back, unperturbed. “I am exactly who you think I am, and who I appear to be.”

“Then who _else_ are you?” he demanded, subtly shifting his weight to put himself between Maz and Rey.

“Ah, now there’s a more intelligent question. I always told your father you weren’t a fool. He had his doubts, I don’t mind saying.” She wagged a finger in Ben’s direction, and her metal bracelets jangled pleasantly in the stillness.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he retorted.

Maz cocked her head to one side, considering him. She seemed to be weighing her answer. Then she smiled. “I go by many names, child. In languages you’ve never dreamed of. But Maz has always been my favorite. Simple, but strong. Do you know what Maz means in the language of my kind?” She glanced inquiringly at Rey, who shook her head, at a loss.

Maz looked again at Ben. “I remember your uncle telling me how much you loved studying the ancient Jedi texts. The stories that are somehow old and now all at the same time. You know my true name, Ben Solo. Search your feelings.”

All the color drained from Ben’s face. A kind of awe seemed to overtake him. “Mother,” he rasped. “It means mother. You’re…The Mother.”

“Smart boy. I always know these things. I’m never wrong about people, you see?” she teased Rey. “It’s the one advantage of being preposterously old. I seem to recall giving you some advice, my girl. About the one you were waiting for being in your future, not your past. Looks like I was right about that, too, eh?” She turned, chortling, and strode off down the bridge.

For a moment, neither Ben nor Rey moved. They were too astonished. Maz yelled back, “Aren’t you coming, then?” They looked at each other, debating without words, before charging to catch her.

“What is happening?” Rey asked breathlessly. “Why are you here? Are you really The Mother?”

“So many questions! One at a time, girl. The simplest one first. I am here because Ben called me.” She stopped. “You had things to say, boy. And I am here to listen. Speak your peace.”

“My peace?” Ben snapped. “I have no peace. I only have anger and regret. I deserve that, I know it. I am fully aware of every mistake I’ve made. But what about Rey? What reason could the Force possibly have to punish Rey?”

“Punish Rey?” Maz seemed genuinely astonished. “Who is punishing Rey? You talk about the Force as though it is some sort of tribunal sitting in judgement on you, Ben Solo. That is not how the Force works, I promise you that.”

“That’s how it feels,” he answered sullenly.

“Hmmm,” Maz mused. She adjusted her glasses, looking intently at each of them in turn. Then she resumed her walk. “Follow me, children. We may as well get where we’re going while we sort this out.” She moved surprisingly fast for such a small person.

“Listen here, boy. I understand you, better than you realize. I know you believe the universe to be a cold, vengeful place. That is one point of view. But I don’t see it that way. And I suggest that you consider this matter from another perspective. I suggest to you, Ben Solo, that this realm is an inconceivable gift to you _and_ to Rey.”

“A gift—?” he started heatedly.

“Don’t interrupt, boy. It’s bad manners. Leia taught you better than that,” Maz chastised. Ben closed his mouth but was clearly affronted.

“Yes, a gift. I meant what I said. Have you never considered why it might be that you and Rey share such a unique bond? A dyad, think of it. Only once in a thousand generations is such a Force bond ever formed. Did you never wonder why it happened to you two, in particular? It makes perfect sense to me. The two loneliest souls in existence _deserve_ the strongest connection. After fighting so hard to survive, to find each other and find your way across darkness _and_ light to become one in spirit—who more than you two deserves the chance to live a thousand lifetimes, devoted only to the one you cannot live without?”

Rey shot forward, sliding in front of Maz and stopping short. She was angry and it showed. “For what purpose, though? To what end? You talk as though it’s all terribly romantic. But it’s not, Maz. It’s not! We spend years apart, then we hate each other, try to murder each other, have one instant together no longer than the life of a soap bubble, then excruciating pain, more separation…and the whole bloody cycle starts again. We’re tired of being moved around like pawns on a gaming board by the Force or Fate or whatever name you call it! We’re just…” her voice broke. “We’re so tired, Maz.”

Ben took Rey’s hand, looking down at Maz with irritation but also something like pleading on his face. “Did you come here to lecture us? Because what we really need is your help.” He glanced at Rey, who was impatiently brushing a fresh tear off her cheek. He looked again at Maz and added, “Your compassion.”

Maz regarded them silently for a moment. “You mortals are such odd creatures.” She shook her head. “If I could somehow give you, right now, what you think you want—if I could wave my fingers and put you two on a magical island, surrounded by nothing but tranquil seas and fair winds—you would be bored in a matter of months, if not weeks. And _then_ you would grow older and fret about your vanished youth, but also impending death and losing each other all over again. Never focused on now, mortals. Always looking for reasons to be dissatisfied.”

“Rey,” she said, not unkindly, “come here, child.” Rey obeyed, stepping forward and kneeling. The older woman laid her hands on the younger’s shoulders. “You are not a pawn, my girl. How can I make you understand? Everyone speaks of balance in the Force, as though it were the final verse of a song, the final stanza of a poem. Somewhere we get to, then stop. An end in itself. A conclusion. But that is not how the Force works, child. There is no balance in the Force, there will _never_ be balance in the Force. There is only the unending work of trying to achieve it. Your story,” she glanced up at Ben, then back to Rey, “will live forever, not because it has one fixed ending, but because you are always changing it, trying to make things right. But the key to true contentment, Rey, is understanding that there is no ‘getting it right.’ There is no end. There are only endless iterations. Variations on a theme. Try then try again. You understand?”

“Honestly? Not really,” she answered.

Maz sighed. “Alright, we’ll stick to my original plan then.” She pushed past Ben and headed over a nearby bridge. Halfway across, she stopped. She seemed to be looking for something. Ben offered Rey a hand up and they followed. Maz squinted back in their direction and announced, “Ah! There it is,” pointing to their right. A bridge Rey had not noticed as they walked by now hung suspended in the black sky.

Ben was incredulous. “That was not here before. I know every inch of this place and that was _not_ here.”

Maz set off across the bridge-that-wasn’t-there, humming a tune Rey recognized from her visit to the cantina. At the end of the bridge was a door. Unlike all the others, however, this door was not a circle. It was a diamond suspended inside a square. Rey noticed as they drew closer that the door did not turn opaque. She could still see the stars when she looked through it. She felt the lightest stirrings of a breeze flowing by. Ben grabbed her arm and held onto her in evident alarm, though she didn’t know why.

“Well now, here you are. The solution to your problem. As requested,” Maz indicated the door with a small flourish. “Don’t thank me all at once.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked suspiciously, never loosening his protective grasp of Rey’s arm.

“I mean, you want an end to all your many trials and tribulations? Here it is. You pass through this door, and all your troubles are at an end. Permanently.”

“Where does it go?” Rey wondered.

“ _It_ doesn’t go anywhere. If you pass through, _you_ go back to the Force. No more ‘excruciating pain,’ no more ‘bloody cycle,’” she repeated Rey’s words back to her, then trained her eyes on Ben. “No more dyad.”

All the air seemed to leave Rey’s lungs. Ben looked equally thunderstruck.

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? A way out? A way to stop all the pain you complained about? You—” she pointed at Ben accusingly, “—you were threatening to jump off this bridge not long ago. That wouldn’t work, by the way, Rey was right. You should be thanking her for stopping that daft plan. But this,” she indicated the diamond door, “this will do the trick, I assure you.”

Rey could sense Ben’s agitation. It mirrored her own.

“Can we talk in private?” she asked Maz.

“Of course, child. Take your time,” the smaller woman answered, leaning without apparent concern against the gateway to oblivion.

Rey took Ben’s hand from her forearm and pulled him back down the bridge, out of Maz’s hearing. He seemed dazed. “Are you alright?” she asked, pressing a hand over his heart. He nodded numbly.

“Ben, I…” she took a deep breath. “I think we should consider going through the door. Both of us. Neither one of us can bear to be apart. This is the one path we can take together.”

“What happened to ‘I’ll gladly take this over nothing?’” he exclaimed, clearly shocked by her reaction to Maz’s proposal.

“It’s not that I don’t feel that way now, Ben.” She pulled him down and kissed him, hard and fast. “Nothing can ever change the way I feel about you. It’s just—I suppose, deep down, I always held out hope that somehow, we would figure out a way to be free of this endless loop. But if what Maz says is true, this really is all there is for us. All there ever will be. You told me honestly that you couldn’t face the prospect of saying goodbye again. It would be utterly selfish of me to leave you here alone knowing that. But I won’t be left behind, either, Ben Solo. I told you. We jump together.”

Ben was silent for a long moment, reaching out to interlace their fingers. “I don’t want to jump,” he admitted.

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. But that was before I found out that Maz Kanata is The Mother,” he shook his head in disbelief, “and has apparently been watching over us this entire time. And the Force isn’t punishing me, or you because of me. It’s offering us every chance it possibly can to be together. Infinite chances, Rey. How can we possibly turn our backs on that?” He raised both her hands to his mouth, kissing each. “We’ve been through too much to just toss that away. If you can keep finding the courage to go back, waiting for you to come home is the least I can do.”

Maz smiled broadly as they approached the diamond portal a second time. She appeared to know their decision without being told.

“What’s so amusing?” Ben asked warily.

“Oh, the mysteries of life, I suppose. You see, the last time I was here, _she_ was the one who persuaded _you_ to change your mind.”

Rey was confused. Maybe her memory was still patchy. “Last time you were here?”

Ben was adamant. “We’ve never seen you here, or spoken to you before.”

Maz winked. “Haven’t you, child?”

And she was gone.

~~~~~

Rey and Ben stood in front of a door, hands linked. It was time.

They kissed. There was no need for tears or many words. They would see each other again, in every lifetime.

Behind them, the portal showed towering waves crashing around metallic ruins. Ben grimaced. “Try not to stab me this time.”

“I think I have to,” she said apologetically. “But maybe this time I can stop myself from running away after I do it.”

She wasn’t feeling well and she knew he could tell. They should not delay any longer but it was so hard to let go. He brushed her forehead, trailing his lips down her cheek and throat. She curled her arms around his neck and pulled him in. “No matter what happens, always remember, you’re not alone,” she breathed.

He swallowed hard. “You won’t remember me saying it, but neither are you.” He straightened slowly and backed away, holding onto her hands as long as he could until he was too far from the door to reach her. “See you soon,” he whispered.

Rey forced herself toward the tempest contained in the portal. As she reached its surface, she stopped. Suddenly, she dashed back to Ben, hugging him one final time and pledging, “I'll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise!” She sprinted for the door, afraid her courage would fail if she went any slower. And she was gone.

Ben stood silently for a long time. He gradually moved closer to the portal, eventually sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of it. He loved watching Rey duel. She was truly magnificent. And perhaps in this life she would again confess to his shadow self that she secretly longed for him as much as he longed for her. He would never tire of hearing that.

_To know how it ends/  
_ _And still begin/  
_ _To sing it again/_  
_As if it might turn out this time/  
_ _I learned that from a friend of mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My very first SW fic--hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by ideas explored in Marie-Claire Gould’s excellent podcast, "What the Force"; NBC’s "The Good Place"; the short story “The Egg,” by Andy Weir; the musical "Hadestown" (from which both the title and opening/closing quotations come); and the story of Indra and Brahma as told by scholar Joseph Campbell in the PBS documentary series, "The Power of Myth."


End file.
